Ambushed Part II, Shades of Retribution
by Lynn's Stories
Summary: Lee Crane's life hangs precariously as Harry and Admiral Johnson work together to bring in an ONI traitor. A RERUN and the fourth and final installment of my Edge of Doom Series.


A fourth season story... The fourth and final installment of my _Edge of Doom_ series.

 **A/N:** Thanks to all the readers who have followed the series, presented here for the first time in timeline order. I hope you enjoy the final story. Lynn : )

 **Ambushed, Part II**

 **Shades of Retribution**

by Lynn

 _ **Story picks up at the final scenes of Ambushed...**_

 _...Phil Nicolo couldn't go home ever again and instead took the cab just a few blocks over to the bus station where he had a locker waiting for a contingency such as this. He had passports and aliases that even ONI didn't know about, complete with enough cash to get him out of the country. There was plenty of money in his Swiss bank account so all he needed was to enact one of his extraction plans, only Phil Nicolo couldn't leave things as they were. His life was over; everything he had worked for, planned for... everything was gone. He knew who was to blame; he knew who got the best of him. He reached for the slender case and emptied the rest of the contents of the locker, then headed to the men's bathroom to gear up. He emerged fifteen minutes later looking like a sixty year old man with greying hair, bushy eyebrows and a pudgy mid-section. He wore a blue business suit and carried his slender case as if it were a briefcase. Nicolo exited the bus station and headed not for the airport, but back to ONI's building._

 _Nicolo positioned himself across the street and watched the emergency responders trying to access the building as it was locked down. He looked at his watch and noted the time as he turned and entered the building across the street where he took up a position in an empty office. As expected, the office was vacated as nearby buildings had been evacuated due to the bomb blast. Nicolo selected an office in perfect view of the front door and opened his slender case, quickly and efficiently assembling the high powered velocity rifle. He pursed his bottom lip as he screwed the silencer into place and then aimed, looking through ONI's large front windows with his high-powered scope. Inside he saw Johnson, Crane and Nelson standing in front of the elevators. All he had to do was wait._

 _# # # # #_

 _Johnson exited the building first; a car was waiting to take him to a safe house. Harry exited behind him as Lee held the door open and followed after both admirals. Barely a second after Lee cleared the door the first shot hit him high in the right chest, the impact sending him back against the glass door. A second shot found its mark in his side as Lee spun with the inertia of the bullet, a third shot followed him down as he fell, catching him high in the left thigh._

 _The whole thing happening in quasi-slow motion with Harry turning as the sound of Lee's first grunt queued him to the impending danger. He was facing Lee and saw him take the subsequent silent shots, as he hastily moved towards his best friend now lying on his side and breathing raggedly in painful attempts to fill his lungs with air. Harry ignored the sounds of the confusion around him; sounds of pursuit as someone noted the shooter standing in the window across the street._

" _Lee!" Harry called moving toward his all-but son and placed a hand on his shoulder speaking in a near whisper into his ear._

" _Don't move, Lad! Don't move..."_

# # # # #

Phil Nicolo's aim was sure as he fired off three rapid shots hitting his intended target. He watched as the bullets riddled Lee Crane's body and lowered his rifle, holding it across his chest and standing in the window in full view of the street below. He smiled slightly as the crowd turned, with various people pointing to the grey haired, middle aged man in a blue business suit holding the rifle. That's all he needed as he turned and headed for the back of the building. He discarded his rifle and stripped out of the business suit to the running suit he wore under his clothes. He pulled the wig and bushy eyebrows off and climbed down the fire escape, two floors below to the alley. He easily made it to the street and melted into the crowd before the law enforcement officers already on the scene at ONI stormed the building and sealed off the exits. He never looked back as he jogged along, his actions in perfect congruency with his clothing. When he was far enough away he hailed a cab and headed to the airport.

# # # # #

"Don't move, Lad! Don't move," Harry said gently, his concern oozing out of every fiber of his being as he applied pressure to one of Lee's bullet wounds.

"Hard... to... breathe...," Lee let out.

"Over here!" Johnson yelled to the marine medics on hand as he joined Harry's side, applying pressure to the femoral artery on Lee's thigh.

Lee moaned without any attempt to hold it back, as he was way past the ability of "putting the pain in place," coughing as blood spittled from his mouth to the sidewalk below him. Paramedics took over the response as Lee was turned on his back, his face a pasty white color that signaled the seriousness of his wounds. He gasped unable to catch the next breath.

"His right lung is collapsing!" The paramedic noted, as his partner pulled out the portable oxygen mask and began pumping oxygen manually in rhythm with his heart.

Lee's eyes glossed over as the sounds around him began to distort, _he was losing it fast_. His eyes surveyed the men around him until he found Harry and then Johnson. Relief flooded him as he realized that they were both safe, before letting out another gasp, audible even with the oxygen mask in place.

"It's not enough, he'll need the ventilator," the EMT reported on his radio receiving direct instructions from the hospital. The emergency procedure was cleared as Lee was moved hastily to the backboard, and then raised to the ambulance cot. From there one EMT stood behind his head and raised his shoulders, tilting Lee's head back while the second EMT inserted a ventilator tube, to which he reacted first in distress then in relief as his breathing became easier.

His eyes were becoming too heavy to keep open as he searched and found Harry again.

"I'm right here, Lee. You're going to be all right. Do you hear me?"

Lee would have offered a small smile to reassure Harry, but he had nothing left to give. He didn't want to say "Good-bye" he was afraid it would unconsciously release him to give in and let go... _God, it hurts so bad_... so he focused on Harry as long as he could, but lost the battle. His eyes closed as unconsciousness took him away from the loud, busy, and confusing sounds surrounding him as he was loaded into the ambulance.

Harry wasn't allowed to ride in the back of the ambulance as Lee's condition was too precarious, but rode instead in the passenger seat as Lee was taken to the nearest hospital; his deteriorating condition not allowing for the longer drive to the nearest Naval Hospital. Johnson climbed back into his waiting car, ordering his driver to follow the ambulance.

# # # # #

Phil Nicolo instructed the cabby to drop him off at the airport long-term parking in the above ground spiral garage. He moved toward the nondescript brown Buick, opening the trunk and pulling out his get-away luggage, then made for the nearest bathroom. He emerged blond-haired, with brass rim glasses that sat over a long distinctive nose, as if it had been broken sometime in his past. His contacts effectively changed his eye color from brown to blue as he walked along rolling a suitcase behind him, and looking like one of many flight attendants heading to their planes for departure. His passport and alias afforded him an easy pass through security even though pictures of the dark-haired Naval Officer were already being circulated through airport security. Another change out of his flight attendant uniform transformed him into a tourist, as he purchased a ticket and boarded a flight out of Washington DC.

# # # # #

Johnson used the phone in the back of his VIP car as they followed the ambulance, with the pain in Lee's face still haunting him.

"Connect me to the Seaview, she's berthed at Groton," he ordered. He was a four-star admiral and fully expected the call to be patched through, even with the limited information he gave. Sure enough, his call was connected with Sparks aboard Seaview.

"This is Admiral Johnson, get me Morton," Johnson ordered with no pleasantries. Only a few moments passed as Chip responded.

"This is Morton."

"Commander, has Simpson reported back to duty yet?"

"Aye Sir, he's back aboard."

"Good. Take him into custody, I'll send for him."

Johnson breathed in and softened his approach. "Commander, I need you to make your way to DC ASAP; Nelson's going to need you."

"Sir?" Chip inquired as his blue eyes sharpened with concern.

"Lee Crane was just gunned down in front of ONI. He's in bad shape."

There was a short pause and then Chip replied. "Aye Sir, which hospital, Sir?"

"He's in route to County General."

Gerald signed off and sat back heavily as his car followed the ambulance with its lights flashing and its sirens blaring. His conversation with Morton was something he normally would have passed down to junior officers, but Gerald needed to do something. He knew this was how he could help Crane.

 _Crane._ That's what he called Lee when he needed to keep his feelings in check. It was tough enough sending men out into the dangers of the espionage world, but when it was someone he respected and cared for like Lee, it was even tougher. He'd been working with Lee for many years now, starting when he was the Deputy Director and more so after his appointment to Director. Lee was just a kid then, barely twenty-four years old when he sent him on the luxury cruise liner to protect the Princess of Sambrini.* It nearly got him killed back then, but the young operative had proven himself in the field. Every subsequent mission assigned confirmed his belief that Lee Crane wasn't just a good operative, he was a natural; years later he had emerged as one of ONI's finest. All of which was only part of the reason Gerald was sitting here being so introspective at the moment. Lee wasn't just an outstanding officer; he was a person of high caliber. A rare breed these days, and _Blast it all,_ he was a good friend despite their differences in rank and the fact that Johnson could never admit it.

The ambulance slowed and pulled into the emergency driveway as Gerald put his thoughts aside and leaned forward.

"Let me out here," he told his driver and hurried to follow Lee's stretcher into the Emergency Room.

# # # # #

Chip lowered the mic as he and Sparks passed worried expressions, and wishing that Harry hadn't taken the flying sub with him into DC.

"Chief," he nearly barked out.

"Aye Sir," Sharkey answered moving across the deck to meet the XO. Most of the crew had rotated out on a brief shore-leave, but nearly all had checked back in as they were scheduled to sail tomorrow afternoon.

"Alert the Master at Arms and place Simpson under arrest. Put him in the Brig under guard until ONI relieves us of the prisoner. Don't use the Com system; I don't want him to run out on us."

"Aye Sir," Sharkey said and turned to see to his orders, but as he moved aft he had the feeling that something was terribly wrong. It was something in the Exec's eyes, something his usually stoic face wasn't masking. Sharkey shook it off to see to his duty. The best thing he could do was to make sure that scumbag Simpson didn't bolt on them.

# # # # #

Harry jumped out of the ambulance and followed after Lee's stretcher as the EMT's whisked him into Emergency.

"I'm sorry Sir, you'll have to wait here," a sympathetic nurse said as she studied the blood on Harry's shirt.

"Are either of you hurt?" She asked.

"No," Harry replied distractedly.

"Is there a private place where we can wait?" Gerald asked, his uniform also soaked with Lee's blood.

"He'll be headed into surgery; I'll have an orderly take you to the waiting room."

Inside the "family" waiting room there was barely enough pacing room for two admirals. The surgeon introduced himself and explained that one bullet had shot clean through Lee's right lung. The bullet in his side had lodged in his rib cage in his back and the shot in the leg had nicked his artery, causing a dangerous bleeder. Any one of the wounds would be life-threatening, so the totality of all three wounds had left the doctor "cautious" as to the outcome. That was six hours ago, a nurse came to report that the bleeder in Lee's thigh had been repaired. Lee had tolerated the surgery well and his vitals were steady, so the surgeons were now turning their attention to his damaged lung.

"Admiral?" Chip said entering the waiting area and addressing Harry, desperately seeking information of Lee's condition.

Harry sighed when he saw Chip, then reined back his emotions. "Still in surgery."

"I didn't get much information," he prodded, needing to know what happened.

Harry turned and motioned for Chip to sit down as Gerald started.

"We got too close to our ONI leak, and he planted a bomb in my office. Lee spotted it in time to save my six," Johnson answered matter of factly. "But in the process, our Leak gave himself away."

"Who?" Chip interjected, momentarily forgetting his decorum, a fact Johnson graciously ignored.

"Captain Phillip Nicolo."

"I know that name," Chip added, as his brow tightened.

"Yes, Lee said that he and Nicolo went way back." Chip nodded and Gerald continued. "Nicolo bolted. He had a clean escape already planned out, but instead of running for the nearest airport he laid in wait for us to leave the building."

Gerald stopped and reined in a deep breath. "Lee was afraid he would come after me since his career was now over, but..." Gerald lowered his eyes and then raised them to meet Chip's. His eyes burned with an anger that Chip had never seen before in his dealings with the ONI Director.

"...He fired three rounds. He had time to put one in each of us, but he saved all three bullets for Lee." Johnson rose and started pacing again as Harry blew out a disgusted breath. "It was Lee's hunches all along that brought Nicolo down and I guess he figured that out," Johnson finished as he deflated into his chair.

"He took a bullet high in the chest, it pierced his lung through," Harry said, picking up the conversation for Chip's benefit. "Another bullet in the side, it's still lodged in his back rib cage and a bullet high in the thigh. They just finished repairing the bleeder, it nicked the artery."

Chip blew out a breath and shook his head as he leaned back into his chair.

"What's his prognosis, Sir?" Chip asked returning to proper decorum.

"They're taking each wound one at a time. If his vitals stay steady they'll move on to the bullet in his back, otherwise they'll have to wait until he stabilizes. They won't give us a prognosis, they simply don't know at this point," Harry said with little emotion for the torment he was feeling inside.

Chip took a deep breath in and hauled in his concern; he had two admirals to take care of.

"Sir, I have a change of clothes for you," he said noting Harry's bloody uniform and tilting his head toward the garment bag he brought and discarded on a chair.

"Thank you, Chip," Harry said as he moved toward the bag picking it up and then turned back sharply. "Call me if there's anything new," he admonished and left to change.

# # # # #

Harry stood looking at himself in the mirror of the bathroom. He couldn't stop staring at Lee's blood on his jacket; _There was so much of it_. He peeled his coat away and unzipped the garment bag hanging on the hook of the door. Chip had brought another uniform, as well as civvies. Harry ran his hand down his khaki uniform shirt and bypassed it for the civvies; a pair of dark slacks with a business casual button up shirt, not meant to be worn with a tie.

He wasn't feeling too military right now. Right now he was feeling like a... well like a father waiting to find out if his son was going to live. He started to reach for the civvies and changed his mind. _Blast it! He still had a job to do, and once he found out Lee was going to make it he was going to track Nicolo to the ends of the earth!_

He shed his soiled clothes, washed himself as best as he could in the sink, then reached for his uniform.

# # # # #

"Sir?" Chip said addressing Johnson as Harry left. "I saw your aide in the hallway. Would you like for me to make arrangements for a change of clothes for you?"

Johnson was standing at the window looking out and turned toward Chip. "Aye Commander. Thank you," he said and turned back to the window as Chip stepped out.

Chip saw to a steady stream of coffee for the admirals and arranged for the aides to order in sandwiches, which neither ate much of. It was another six hours before the surgeon reappeared.

"Well, he's out of surgery and in the recovery area. His vitals are weak but steady, but he's not out of the woods yet. These next few days will be critical to his recovery," he explained. "I'd like to place Commander Crane in an induced coma to aid in the healing process and to help stay ahead of the pain."

"For how long?" Harry asked.

"Three days. There _is_ a danger in what I'm suggesting. If he doesn't improve the way I expect him to, he may slip into a natural coma and possibly not wake at all. But I'm very encouraged with how well he tolerated all three surgical procedures, I think this is the best course of action if we're to hope for a full recovery," the doctor added. "If it were _my_ family member lying there, this is the course of action I would take," he finished.

"Very well," Harry replied. "I have full power of attorney for Lee, I can make that decision."

The doctor nodded and added an understanding smile. "I wish I could allow him to wake, but at this point I don't think it would be wise."

"We only want what's best for him," Harry added.

"Good. Once he's out of recovery we'll let you all see him. He won't be able to respond, but there are documented cases of the patient hearing what's going on in the room. Make sure all your conversations with the patient are encouraging; even when they don't remember, I've personally noted a difference when my coma patients have their loved ones near." The doctor smiled weakly, obviously weary from the long surgery and took his leave.

Harry nodded and rubbed a tired hand across his neck as Johnson let out a sigh and breathed it back in. Gerald was the first to speak as he turned to Harry.

"I'm going check with my staff and see where the man-hunt is at. I promise you Harriman, I'm going to bring Nicolo down. He's going to face what he did... one way or the other," Gerald promised and left in haste.

Harry let out a weary half-chuckle. "I'm not sure I've ever seen Gerald that passionate about one of his operatives before."

Chip nodded, before addressing Harry's well-being. "Admiral, will you try to eat something while we wait?"

Harry sunk back into a chair, expelling some pent up anxiety in a long exhale. He nodded his affirmative and then added, "Thank you, Chip."

# # # # #

Harry and Chip were allowed to visit Lee as he lay completely still and deeply unconscious. An abundance of medical equipment surrounded him as soft beeps and hums filled the room; each device watching over a different bodily function. An oxygen cannula had been applied along with blood pressure and oximeter finger monitors, while the IV dripped fluids, antibiotics and Lee's pain medication. The hospital gown was absent giving the caregivers immediate access to the bandages and drains. White gauze wrapped his middle and his entire right side up to his shoulder. Lee's left leg was bandaged under the warming blanket and a pressure pack was still in place. His breathing was slow and steady as Harry noted the pain lines that plagued his face earlier were absent, lost in the deep unconscious state. He was grateful for that.

Harry reached for Lee's free hand, unfettered by IV's and monitors and held it lightly, ignoring the fact that there were others in the room.

"Lee, it's me, Nelson. I'm here, Lad. Now you just rest and get better, sleep as long as you want." Harry added a little squeeze to Lee's limp hand and stepped away as Chip moved in.

"Hey Lee, it's Chip." Chip clasped Lee's hand as well and squeezed. "Seaview's sitting all nice and snug at Groton so you just rest. Don't worry about a thing, Buddy. Listen Lee, I'm going take care of a few things and then I'll be back; maybe I'll grab a book and read it to you. I heard Beach has a new novel out, _Cold is the Sea_ **. I'll see if I can find it. See you in a little bit, Lee."

Chip stepped away and moved silently out as Harry took one last look and followed. Johnson stood at the door, never approaching Lee's bed. The doctor told them to be "encouraging", and right now the only thing on Gerald's mind was the arrest, conviction and _execution_ of one Captain Phillip Nicolo. Gerald followed Harry out leaving behind the soft beeps and hums of Lee's monitors in the background.

# # # # #

Phil Nicolo deboarded the plane in Rio de Janerio still sporting his blond-haired, blue-eyed disguise and wearing a loud Hawaiian print shirt with long walking shorts that extended to his knees. It was perfect. The loud disguise bringing attention to his looks, in stark contrast to the dark-haired, brown-eyed operative ONI would be man-hunting. He left being slightly obnoxious with the pretty flight attendant at the door, and left in a strut that shouted "beach bum."

He strolled through the airport and found a men's room close to the exit. He had no baggage to retrieve from the carousel, only the carry-on he brought with him. He entered the bathroom stall and transformed himself from blond-haired beach bum, to something totally different. When he emerged from the stall he was sporting his dark-hair once again and wearing dark slacks with a business casual knit collared shirt tucked neatly in at his belted waist. He pulled a small bottle from his bag and proceeded to slick his hair down and styled it to match his suave, sophisticated look. He removed the blue eye contacts and darkened his eyebrows with a make-up pencil, then slid a pair of dark expensive sunglasses on and left.

He exited the airport and hailed a cab, ready to start his new life in Brazil.

# # # # #

John Baxter was positioned in a spot to conduct his surveillance... of all things... an airport men's room. _This isn't what I signed up for when I joined the Company_ , he thought with a silent sigh, _but at least he wasn't being strung up by his thumbnails by bad guys_ , he consoled himself. Actually, his assignment was an important one and the men's room in question had been frequented as an "office" to conduct business by a low level thug. His job was to tail the thug until he led him to the Big Boss. John was a seasoned agent with the CIA and had conducted his fair share of dangerous and life-threatening assignments, so other than watching a men's room, he really wasn't too unhappy with the easy assignment.

As boring as the surveillance was, it hadn't distracted him from doing his job, however; he was a professional through and through. He noted every man who entered and subsequently left as possible business associates with his "target" bad guy. The blond-haired beach bum strutting into the bathroom wasn't hard to miss. His clothing was a bit loud, and he doubted he would be a business associate, but John never took anything for granted; he learned that a long time ago.

The blond CIA agent glanced down at his watch; his surveillance was pretty much over as his target was predictable and conducted his business at a specific time. John would have left, his assignment for the day complete, but something was gnawing at him. The blond-haired beach bum had been in the men's room for over twenty minutes, not unheard of, but certainly suspect to the seasoned agent. He watched the door carefully to note the beach bum's departure and blinked his eyes at the sight of the suave dark-haired "playboy" who emerged. John was sure he hadn't entered the men's room; he couldn't have missed it from his vantage point. The debonair looking man took a couple of steps clearing the bathroom door and then pulled off his sunglasses giving them a swipe with his handkerchief, and then replaced the expensive shades and continued to the exit.

"What's ONI doing here?" He wondered, recognizing Phillip Nicolo and noting the carryon bag as the same one the beach bum carried in. He chuckled to himself when he realized that Nicolo had transformed himself from a beach bum to a playboy in that twenty minutes. _Nicolo always was a good operative, almost as good Lee Crane,_ another ONI Operative John was keenly aware of as Lee had pulled him out of a tight situation years ago. John was able to return the favor when he found himself deep undercover with bad guys trying to take over Seaview. His part had helped to save Lee and the nuclear payload Jason Paris was trying to hijack. John and Lee had a connection, and a year later, when a CIA mission had gone bad, Lee came in once again and carried him out to safety. His ONI counterpart paid the price that time, taking a bullet and a beating to save him.***

John shook off his thoughts and moved behind Nicolo, trailing him from afar. It wasn't any of his business what ONI was doing here, but his surveillance was finished for the day and he was bored. So he hailed a cab and followed Nicolo to an expensive luxury hotel. John waved the driver on as he watch Nicolo walk to the front desk. He gave his cabby new directions, then sat back with a sigh. _Another exciting day in Rio_ , he thought.

The cabby dropped John off at his nice, but far less expensive hotel, as John walked in wondering if he should have joined the Navy and ONI instead of the CIA. He entered his room and activated his portable computer, which sat in a medium sized suitcase. _Someday, someone's got to design a smaller one of these_ , he pondered as he noted the bulkiness of the state of the art computer and printer. He fired up his computer and pressed the "Receive" button to print off any new developments to his current assignment. As he watched the face printing across the dot matrix printer his eyebrows tightened. Each line that printed painted a face that was all too familiar... one he had just saw. He let the printer finish then tore the page off the continuous feed paper. The printer was still printing away as he examined the face of Phillip Nicolo. The silence of the printer signaled the completion of the reports as he tore the accompanying bulletin off and read, his eyes growing darker as his lips pursed.

 _Captain Phillip Nicolo, USN. Wanted for questioning for allegations of treason in connection to the selling of US secrets, the recent bombing of the office of the Director of ONI, and the attempted murder of a fellow operative...Considered armed and extremely dangerous._

No details were given in the standard Wanted Bulletin sent to all CIA Agents at home and abroad, as John reached for the telephone and dialed his area Supervisor.

# # # # #

Harry sat at Lee's bedside as his dark-headed captain lay motionless for the second day of the induced coma. Chip left the book he'd been reading to Lee, _Cold is the Sea_ , as Harry perused it reading the opening chapter lightly. _Maybe he'd read it too,_ he thought, but he couldn't concentrate and placed the book back on the end table.

Watching Lee as he lay in a coma so lifeless produced an unsettling feeling for the Admiral. He was deeply unconscious and his facial muscles completely relaxed. Harry reached up and brushed the hair from Lee's forehead, feeling the need to care for his friend in some way, but Lee was unresponsive, even to his touch. It was unnerving, as Lee had this uncanny knack for knowing when someone was sitting beside his bed. Harry sat back and silently sighed, before deciding to take the doctor's advice and talk with the unconscious man.

"What do you think, Lee?" Harry asked casually, as if Lee could actually hear him, "Should I redesign Seaview's sister boat to berth FS1, or keep the enlarged lab and stores?" Harry smiled already knowing Lee's opinion as if he could reply. "You're right of course. It wouldn't be hard to fit FS1 in, we did it for Seaview," he mused. Harry's design for Chip's new boat was ready to go into production; the new boat would ease Seaview's workload and increase the Institute's ability to take a plethora of projects they simply didn't have time for.

"I still haven't settled on a name. What do you think?" Harry sat back, missing Lee's response and his positive approach to life. "Maybe... Seascape? No, that's not right either. I'll think of something," he said almost whimsically. "You know it would be easier if you would help me," Harry offered with a half-hearted chuckle, sighing as he looked at the man lying lifeless before him. He looked so vulnerable, like a boy almost. It disturbed Harry to see him in a coma, even though it had been induced for his benefit. He stood and paced the small private room, jammed tight with every imaginable monitoring device. He felt so helpless, a feeling he wasn't accustomed to. _He was a man of action, these introspective moments weren't good for him_ , he reasoned. But there wasn't any other place he'd rather be than right here, except... _what he wouldn't do to have Nicolo in his hands right now._

Harry turned toward the sound of air passing through the open door to see Gerald, standing with his cover in hand and looking extremely Navy at the moment.

"We found him," was all he said as Harry stood, leaned over Lee's bed and whispered in his ear.

"I'll be back, Lee. You just rest now," then Harry straightened as the soft lines that etched concern on his face sharpened to something different... something dangerous... as he followed Johnson out of Lee's room.

# # # # #

"We got lucky," Johnson explained as Chip and Harry sat across from him in an empty corner of the waiting room.

"A CIA Agent was in Rio working on an assignment and spotted Nicolo. The Agent had no idea Nicolo was wanted, but was curious after watching him change disguises. He followed him to the Grand Ritz and then went on his way; the Bulletin was waiting for him when he returned to his room. The Agency is keeping an eye on Nicolo for us. He apparently believes he's gotten away clean and hasn't employed any other disguises," Johnson finished, all business.

"Who's the Agent?" Harry asked; not that he was familiar with all of the Agency's agents, but he had run across a few in his day.

Johnson pulled a small note pad from his pocket and flipped a few pages. "Baxter. John Baxter."

Harry and Chip exchanged knowing nods as Harry spoke up. "He's good. He won't lose Nicolo," he assured as he stood. "Gerald, I'm going to Rio whether I get the assignment or not," he declared as Chip's eyes registered his instant concern.

"Fine, you can ride with me," Johnson replied flatly as Harry's face registered his surprise.

"I told you I was going to bring him in," Johnson stated answering both Harry's and Chip's unanswered questions.

Harry's mouth pursed tightly shut as he nodded his understanding, and then turned to Chip.

"I'm going to jump on this Chip, before Nicolo has a chance to run again."

"Aye Sir, I understand."

"Tell Lee... just tell him I'll see him when I get back," he answered and turned to leave as Gerald and Harry left side by side taking determined steps to the exit.

Chip exhaled a long breath as he watched the two admirals depart. _You deserve what you're going to get_ , _Nicolo_ , he thought as he noted the passion in each of the senior officer's steps, and then chuckled slightly at the thought of the two retired ONI Operatives taking on the younger Captain. There was no doubt in Chip's mind just who would end up on top.

# # # # #

A change of clothes was in order as Harry and Johnson stopped at ONI to get outfitted for their trip. Luggage was waiting for them as they quickly changed into civvies and checked their weapons.

"You're sure about this, Gerald?" Harry asked before leaving ONI. "You're the _Director_ of ONI," he said stating the obvious.

"And as such, will personally supervise the apprehension of an ONI traitor," he stated rather strongly as Harry shook his head in agreement.

"Let's get to it," Harry replied as the two admirals left ONI for Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

# # # # #

"That's right you jerk, live it up," John Baxter said watching his "target" from his stealth location as Phillip Nicolo danced in the loud, lively disco, clearly enjoying the attention of several women interested in the dark-headed, olive-toned hunk who was new to the dance club.

Nicolo finished the dance and escorted a pair of ladies back to his table, one on each arm, as he pulled chairs for them in a gentlemanly fashion and ordered a refill of drinks all around.

Baxter had been told to wait for reinforcements from ONI, but he didn't understand why. He could take Nicolo into custody easy, just by waiting for him in his hotel room. Nicolo was being lax, apparently fully believing he had escaped without detection. Baxter was sure the ONI Operative would be an easy take-down.

It wasn't the waiting that was bothering John, it was the fact that he had been fully briefed on Nicolo's _alleged_ crimes. Even if he hadn't gunned down one of his good friends, he would have been high on the CIA Agent's list of low-lives; selling out his own country and placing other operatives in danger with each sell-out. Then, placing a bomb in Admiral Johnson's office hoping to take out both the Admiral _and_ Lee; but gunning down Lee in hit-man fashion made his stomach turn. _Nicolo obviously held Lee responsible for his world coming apart, but the guy couldn't even face him like a man._ He ambushed Lee, right on ONI's sidewalk as if to declare to the naval espionage agency who had truly won.

John kept a sharp eye out, he wasn't going to lose Nicolo to the crowd _or_ to a disguise change in the men's room. _This guy was going down._

# # # # #

"Pretty good chapter, huh Lee?" Chip asked, offering a smile to his best friend lying completely still. A nurse had been in and emptied Lee's waste bags, _Lee's going to love waking up to the Foley_ , Chip thought in sarcastic humor, referring to the catheter. She checked his monitors, adjusted his IV and left without Lee even being aware of the medical attention he was receiving.

The hospital had been lax in the visitor hours since Lee's doctor believed so strongly in his coma patients being surrounded by loved ones. With Harry gone, Chip had opted to stay, leaving only for a short rest late at night. He returned early the next morning, shaved and showered and ready to resume his watch over his friend. It wasn't the first time he'd been in this position, sitting by Lee's bedside waiting for him to wake up, but this time he knew his condition was precarious.

"Commander Morton?"

Chip turned to the sound of his name as a nurse called him to the door.

"Doctor Davis would like to examine his patient, you can wait out here until he's finished, then I'm sure he'll have an update for you."

Chip nodded his agreement and took the opportunity to head for the coffee machine down the hall. It had been two and half days since Lee was placed in an induced coma, perhaps tonight the doctor would allow Lee to wake naturally. He hoped so. He needed to see Lee awake, to know for sure he'd be okay.

Chip made his way to the coffee machine and took his steaming hot coffee back toward the chairs near Lee's room. He sat and took in the dark brew, _Not bad... not as good as Cookie's, but not bad_ , he thought rather absently-mindedly. After about ten minutes Lee's doctor emerged and walked toward Chip.

"Is Admiral Nelson here?" He asked looking around the waiting room.

"No, he's not here right now. He's asked me to keep him apprised of any developments concerning Commander Crane," Chip answered returning to his naval decorum. He had continued to wear his uniform to the hospital even during his late night vigils, as he found the "official" look of the uniform afforded him special favors from the hospital staff.

"Of course," Dr. Davis offered easily. "Commander Crane is healing well; it will be a long road to recovery, but I think we're ready to allow him to wake."

Chip blew out an audible breath in relief as Dr. Davis continued.

"Let's keep with our original time table and I'll schedule the reduction in medication to coincide with this evening. His vitals are getting stronger, and I have every reason to believe he will wake without complications."

Chip allowed a natural and relieved smile to grace his face as he nearly chuckled in contentment.

"That's great, Doc."

"Don't expect him to stay awake very long, but at least when he falls asleep you'll know he's really sleeping," the doctor offered with understanding.

"Thank you Dr. Davis. I'll get in touch with the Admiral. He's uh... out of the city at present, but I know he'll be pleased."

Dr. Davis offered a warm pat on Chip's arm and headed to the next patient on his rounds as Chip expelled a deep cleansing breath and turned for the nearest phone to call Monica with the news.

# # # # #

"Commander Crane?"

Lee struggled to wake; his sleep was deep, but he didn't know who was calling him and he thought he should try and rouse himself. A small breathy moan preceded his full wakefulness as his eyes slowly opened.

"That's right. Can you wake up for me?"

 _A hospital_ , Lee thought, and in a split second the memory of his painful ordeal came sharply into focus.

"My name is Dr. Davis. Now first things first..." he continued as Lee focused on the doctor with salt and pepper hair, dark but greying in places. "Are you in pain?" Dr. Davis asked.

"A little bit," he answered all too breathy and weak for his liking.

Dr. Davis reached for a control knob on a tether, pressing the button and releasing pain medication straight into Lee's IV.

"This is for the pain. Now there's no reason to be uncomfortable; if you're hurting, release more medication," he added with a professional, but sincere doctor's smile.

"Thanks Doc. Where am I?" He asked, knowing he wasn't in a naval hospital.

"You're at Washington County General. Do you remember what happened?"

Lee's body felt heavy, and he was well aware of each of the three bullet wounds.

"Yes," he answered with an ever so slight nod. He had a lot of questions about Nicolo, but the civilian doctor wasn't the one to ask.

"Good. Let me tell you about your condition," Dr. Davis continued, now that he was sure he wouldn't shock his patient with the fact that he had been shot three times. Somehow he didn't think it would be such a shock, as the naval officer had scars indicating other wounds of like fashion.

"We removed two bullets, one in your left thigh, that one nicked an artery and you subsequently lost a good deal of blood. The other entered in your right side and lodged in your back rib cage. The third bullet passed completely through your chest, damaging your lung. Your right lung collapsed..." Lee nodded, he remembered that well, feeling as if he were going to suffocate right there on ONI's sidewalk.

"Your injuries were substantial, and we placed you in an induced coma to aid in the healing process."

Lee's eyebrows furled slightly, his facial muscles still weak. "How long?"

"Three days. I'm very encouraged with your progress. We'll do everything we can to get you back to one hundred percent, Commander. I believe with the proper care and physical therapy you'll have a full recovery."

Lee sighed and nodded, "Thank you, Dr. Davis."

The doctor smiled in satisfaction at his patient's recovery thus far. "Now, you've had a steady stream of officers here watching over you. Commander Morton is outside, are you ready to see him?"

Lee cracked a weak smile, "Aye. Thank you, Doc."

Lee closed his eyes and breathed in until he reached the pain of fully inflating his damaged lung, then exhaled. He was so tired; it was hard to believe he'd been unconscious for three days to be this tired yet.

"Lee?"

He opened his eyes to greet Chip's relieved smile that morphed into a full one when Lee returned his with a tired grin.

Chip started to say something clever; something humorous to break the ice; something a sibling would say when teasing his kid brother, but sank into the chair instead and unashamedly took Lee's hand in a clasp.

"I thought we'd lost you there, Buddy," he said, his voice full of emotion as he lowered his head.

Lee closed his eyes and squeezed back, then opened his eyes making strong eye contact with Chip. "I know," he said a bit stronger than before, but laced with a painful breath.

Chip released Lee's hand and deflated back into the chair. "So how are you doing?"

"Tired. Was I really out for three days?"

"Yeah. Completely," Chip answered with a bit of a chuckle, their usual banter beginning to return.

"I remember the Admiral and Johnson afterwards... they're okay?"

"Yeah. Johnson said Nicolo had it in for you alone. He figures Nicolo knew it was your hunches that brought him down."

"It's more than that..." Lee started, feeling wearier as he talked. "We used to have a running joke, only I didn't know he was serious. He always joked that he was the best operative ONI had and that he'd admit I was better, but then he'd have to kill me... you know? Like that old spy joke, 'I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you'."

Chip let out a disgusted breath, "You mean his ego's that big?"

"I guess. I thought he was just joking... How's the Admiral?" Lee knew Harry would have kept a steady vigil at his bedside, and figured he was getting some much needed sleep at present.

"He's on a plane to Rio, with Johnson."

"Rio?"

"That's where Nicolo showed up. He thought he got away scot-free," Chip let out a slight chuckle, "but John Baxter was on assignment in Rio and spotted him," Chip added with a satisfied smile.

Lee smiled back and then crinkled his forehead in confusion. "Johnson?" Wondering just what the Director of ONI, a Four-Star active duty Admiral was doing in the field.

Chip chuckled again. "Yeah. I've never seen him so ticked off, Lee." Chip's humor gave way to the seriousness of the situation as he continued. "Nicolo stirred up something deep in Johnson when he went after you the way he did." Chip let out a breath, "So, he and Admiral Nelson are in route to Rio to take him down."

The pain began to spike again as Lee reached for his pain medication button and released relief into his IV. He breathed in shallow breaths waiting for it to catch up and then found Chip's worried eyes.

"You'll be talking to the Admiral soon," he stated rather than asked.

Chip nodded, "When he lands, it's an all-night flight."

"Tell him 'justice, not vengeance'," Lee admonished as his eyes got heavier.

"I'll tell him. You look tired, Lee. Rest now and I'll be back to read you Beach's new novel..."

"Something about Cold Sea?" Lee asked trying to remember vague pieces of disjointed plots to a book he had never read before.

" _Cold is the Sea_ , and I've been reading it to you. I'll start over so you can follow what's going on." Chip marveled inwardly that though Lee had been deeply unconscious, he had vague recollections of his long bedside vigil.

"Thanks Chip," Lee offered with a smile as he gave up willingly to a natural sleep.

Chip stood there watching over Lee for a moment; satisfied to know that Lee was just sleeping and would wake soon. He blew out a silent breath and left quietly to contact Seaview and the Institute with an update on Lee's condition.

# # # # #

Harry and Gerald landed at Galeao Air Force Base in Brazil's second largest city, Rio de Janeiro. Their military transport had afforded them a faster ride than the commercial airliners and had cut the usual eighteen hour flight down by hours. The admirals were greeted with full decorum by the Brazilian Air Force officials, and their presence in the country had been cleared with the government, although the CIA's presence on Baxter's case hadn't been disclosed.

They left the Air Force Base, shared with the passenger liners, and headed for the hotel where John Baxter was registered. He was currently staking out his "target" and would be meeting the two admirals for a briefing after he was relieved from the surveillance by another agent, as the CIA and ONI joined resources to apprehend the suspected traitor.

Harry's room was right across the hall from Gerald's, but at present he was pacing the floor in Johnson's room as they waited for Baxter's arrival. A knock on the door stopped his pacing as Harry stood behind the door and Gerald peered through the peep hole to identify their guest. He opened the door having recognized the Agent from their brief meeting several years ago and ushered him in as Harry moved into Baxter's view.

"Admiral Johnson. Admiral Nelson," Baxter greeted, having had experience with both admirals in the past.

"Agent Baxter," Johnson greeted, as Harry added a warm handshake with his greeting, "Hello John."

"What have you got?" Gerald asked, needing to get down to business as he motioned John to the table with three chairs situated for the briefing.

"It looks like Nicolo has been a busy boy. He's been trying to reinvent himself and open up shop for 'business'," John reported. "He dropped the name 'Vortex' and is trying to emerge under a new call sign, 'Viper'." Simpson had been singing like a jaybird and had identified his contact as "Vortex," although he had no idea who he was.

"Fits that snake in the grass," Harry blew out in a disgusted breath, trying to hold on to Lee's message, _Justice not Vengeance._ He'd been relieved to hear upon landing that Lee was awake and lucid, his prognosis good, and it sounded just like Lee to send this particular message. Harry wondered where "Retribution" fit in, because that's what Nicolo was going to get.

John nodded his agreement and continued. "He's not moving that fast and manages to 'play' at night. He hasn't missed a local disco scene one night since he landed."

"And where is he right now?" Johnson asked.

"I left him with another agent while he ate lunch. I expect by now he's back in his room, which if you're interested..." John proceeded to open the briefcase he was carrying, "we can listen into his conversations." He smiled as he pulled out the radio receiver and dialed up gains as both Harry and Gerald leaned forward, each sporting a small half-smile at the CIA Agent's skill to have planted a bug.

A moment later they were listening to Phillip Nicolo's conversation a mile away, in another hotel.

" _...What do you mean ten grand per operative? Some of these guys are the best there are. It's got to be worth more than that to you..."_

" _Well then let's just say it depends on who you've got."_

" _I'm not dropping names until we have a deal," Viper said, negotiating shrewdly._

" _How do I know what you got is real?"_

" _All right. There's a dock worker at the Port of Oakland, his cover name is Teddy Nash. He's an ONI operative on assignment and getting cozy with some of your own contacts."_

" _I'll check it out. If this pans out, we'll be doing a lot of business together."_

The phone went dead as Johnson moved hastily to his secure satellite phone and made his connection.

"This is Johnson. Get Walker out of Oakland, he's been compromised." He finished his business and then signed off, disgusted that he couldn't slam the satellite phone down on the hook like he could his phone in his office.

"We've _got_ to seal this leak," Johnson declared with passion.

"All right Gerald. Let's get to work," Harry said, honing in on what needed to be done as the three men huddled over the table to plan out the apprehension of Phillip Nicolo.

# # # # #

"Lee?"

Lee opened his eyes with a small smile for the familiar voice he heard.

"Hi Jamie."

Lt. Commander William Jamieson, better known as Jamie to the command crew, stood in full service dress offering his own smile.

"Dr. Davis was good enough to share your chart with me."

"How does it look?"

"Like Swiss cheese," he quipped back, referring to three entrance wounds and an exit wound on Lee's body.

"Yeah, that's what it feels like," Lee replied as Jamie settled into the chair beside him.

"You had a good surgeon; he and his staff did a good job patching you up," Jamie answered, becoming more serious in his tone.

"I feel so tired..."

"It's your body's way of keeping you down so it can heal. You need to be patient, Lee," Jamie offered, using his Captain's first name as he made this visit as a friend. "You can't push the recovery. You'll be in bed for a while yet."

"How long?"

"Another week here, and then Dr. Davis will release you to my care. We'll transfer you to Seaview and take a nice two week cruise home. I'm afraid you'll spend most of it in Sickbay. We'll see how things are looking then; we may be able to send you home for the rest of your recovery."

Lee blew a breath out. "That's a long time to be in bed," he answered wearily.

"Don't fight us on this, Lee. It's at least a six week recovery... you're fortunate to be alive."

"I'm too tired to fight you, Jamie," Lee responded with a small grin. "I might even be a model patient."

" _Now_ you're going to be a model patient? _After_ I've lost most of my hair caring for you?"

They shared a chuckle between friends as Lee lay with his left hand splayed over his injured side.

"How's Seaview?"

"Missing her Skipper," Jamie replied, "but doing fine. Lt. O'Brien brought the boat into the Navy Yard and Chip's authorized shore leave for a few days. Some of the crew were asking to visit you, but we'll hold them off a few more days. Then I think you'll have a steady stream of well-wishers."

Lee offered a small but sincere half-smile and sighed.

"Well, I can tell you need to rest, so I'll head on out."

"Thanks Jamie," Lee offered, glad for the little bit of Seaview his visit had brought.

Jamie laid a gentle pat on Lee's arm as he rose. "See you later, Skipper." He took once last look back at Lee's bed and smiled to himself to see that Lee had already fallen asleep.

 _Model patient_ , he thought in humorous sarcasm and left shaking his head. There was no doubt in his mind that as soon as Lee felt stronger, they'd start the familiar banter and spar matches; but right now after coming so close to losing him, that sounded just fine.

# # # # #

Phillip Nicolo was enjoying his new night life. _Why not?_ He wasn't an officer and a gentleman anymore; he didn't have to protect the next promotion in rank. The thought was both freeing and irritating, as his plans for becoming an Admiral and eventually running ONI had fallen apart. He never intended on leaving behind his second job, sharing espionage secrets for cash. Indeed, his new roles at ONI would put him in a more lucrative position to do just that. He would have had to be careful to avoid detection, but he had done it for several years without any trouble... that is until Lee figured Simpson out.

The thought of Lee Crane lying lifeless on ONI's sidewalk was satisfying. He didn't have enough room in his ambitious plans for friendship, devotion or loyalty; Lee simply got in the way and had to be dealt with. Period.

Right now, however, the last thing on his mind was ONI _or_ Lee Crane, as he danced with the hot Brazilian woman showing an ample amount of affection for him. He escorted her off the dance floor and brushed an errant lock of curls from her face with the back of his fingers in a sophisticated move that pleased her.

"How about we take this someplace quieter?" He asked.

"What do you have in mind?" She asked in mock shyness.

"I'm staying at the Grand Ritz."

Her eyes widened at the thought of the ultra-luxurious hotel as she smiled her answer in anticipation. They left the disco, hailing a cab and climbing in the backseat with plenty of giggles and laughter to guess what they were planning.

# # # # #

"They're headed your way."

"Got it," John Baxter answered and then nodded to Harry and Gerald that the plan was on.

# # # # #

Nicolo sauntered his way over to the elevator with his Brazilian bombshell on his arm and raised her hand for a suave kiss of the back of her hand and then pressed the UP button, calling the elevator to their floor. They watched as the lights indicated the elevator car was descending and then entered in. Nicolo turned to push the ninth floor when he glanced up at the still open door of the elevator. His face registered his shock as he quickly reached for the CLOSE button when he saw Admiral Gerald Johnson standing on the outside of the car with his sidearm drawn. He pulled his lady friend in front of him to shield him from Johnson's possible gunfire as the elevator doors closed. The Bombshell screamed at the sight of Johnson's gun and Nicolo using her as a shield, as the elevator climbed three floors, then stopped suddenly in between floors. Nicolo threw his hostage to the floor as she huddled in the corner sobbing. He pushed buttons frantically until he felt a breeze and looked up in time to see a gas canister tossed down in the car. He held his breath and reached for the car doors, trying to pry the doors open and escape between floors, but the gas was potent as he slid down the doors to the deck of the elevator in a silent heap. A moment later, Harry lowered himself from the elevator's ceiling crawl space and reached for Nicolo's limp arms securing them behind his back with cuffs. The beautiful Brazilian bombshell turned to face Harry, unaffected by the gas since she wore a small portable breather, retrieved from her purse specifically for the sting.

"Are you alright, Detective Costas?" Harry asked as he shed his own breather mask and reached a hand to help her up.

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered, having done her job in getting Nicolo's attention and lowering the danger of a civilian for the take-down.

Harry smiled and reached for his radio. "The prisoner is secure."

Immediately the emergency lights gave way to full power as the elevator lowered to the lobby where Johnson and Baxter were ready to take their prisoner into custody. Harry took the ride down in satisfaction, though it wasn't the way he envisioned of taking the scumbag down. Indeed, he had thought long and hard as he sat by Lee's unconscious body riddled with bullets. His original thoughts took the darker side of retribution, as he fantasized an all-out hand to hand combat, with Nicolo getting the brunt of his pent up anger in every powerful fist delivered to his face and body. He wanted to beat Nicolo to a bloody pulp, but Lee's message kept him on track, _Justice not Vengeance_ as Harry satisfied himself with the knowledge that Nicolo would receive his Retribution at the hands of a military court martial. There was plenty of evidence against the traitor and Phil Nicolo would face the full Retribution of his capital offense deeds.

# # # # #

The door of the elevator opened as John smiled at the unconscious man on the ground. He felt the job of riding an elevator down and dropping the gas canister through the ceiling should have been his since he was the younger agent on the scene, but how could he deny Nelson his right to personally bring Nicolo in? John reached for Detective Costas' hand and helped her around the prone American fugitive, and then stood back as he watched the two admirals pick Nicolo up on both arms and drag his sorry six toward the door and the waiting armored vehicle.

# # # # #

John Baxter had been recalled to Washington, his assignment to be picked up by the other agent still on the scene and not made known to the local law enforcement. He was currently hitching a ride with two admirals and a traitor.

Nicolo was lying on a bench seat with his hands still secured behind his back and tethered to a cargo tether ring on the side of the fuselage. Baxter watched as Nicolo's eyes fluttered then opened, gathering in his predicament with a quick sweep of his eyes.

He looked across at three pairs of eyes, each harboring dark "make my day" expressions. He recognized Baxter and nearly snarled back tugging on his restraints as Gerald walked over, leaned down and whispered something in Nicolo's ear. He returned to his seat as Harry noted the disgust on Nicolo's face.

"What did you say?" Harry asked quietly.

Gerald turned toward him and smiled freely. "I asked him how it felt to get taken down by 'two old guys'."

Harry chuckled as John held back his laugh and turned his head to hide his own chuckles.

"You idiots! You think you've won?" Nicolo yelled as Gerald stood up and closed the distance.

"Oh look," he said in mock surprise. "Our prisoner is getting unruly. I think we need to subdue him," he said speaking in a flat, monotone voice.

He reached into his pocket and produce at hypo, all measured and ready to use.

"No wait!" Nicolo yelled, not knowing what was in the hypo as Gerald injected him with no emotion, and Nicolo's eyes got heavy, the sedative taking him to a deep sleep.

Harry laughed, knowing that Gerald had just delivered a small dose of psychological retribution as Gerald returned to his seat and leaned back with his head against the bulkhead.

"Wake me when we get to DC," he stated flatly and fell into a satisfying slumber despite the loud military transport's engines as they traveled home.

# # # # #

Harry was pleased to see Chip waiting for him upon arrival and gladly left the prisoner to Johnson's MA's. Both Harry and Chip offered a grateful hand to John; it might have been years and who knows how many sold out ONI Operatives before they caught up with Nicolo if John Baxter hadn't spotted him in the Rio men's room.

"Tell Lee I'll come by and see him," John said as they said their goodbyes and the agent left for his debriefing with the CIA.

"Thanks again, John," Harry added with sincerity as he turned toward the car Chip had waiting.

"Now Chip, tell me how Lee is doing?"

"He's getting stronger every day, Sir. He's asked about you several times and he knows you're coming in today."

Harry nodded, holding his mouth in a tight-lipped smile at the thought of seeing Lee again.

# # # # #

Harry entered the room and slid into the chair next to Lee. Chip had already told him that Lee was doing a fair amount of sleeping through his recovery, his gun-shot wounds barely six days old. He looked across at Lee Crane; he was shaven and his hair was brushed as he was obviously well enough to insist upon certain grooming standards. He smiled as Lee opened his eyes and greeted Harry with his own smile. _How does he do it?_ Harry wondered, marveling at how Lee always knew when someone was sitting beside his bed.

"Hello Admiral," Lee greeted, clearly pleased to see Harry.

"Hello Lee. It's good to see you awake," he replied, the satisfaction of seeing his friend awake clearly seen in the twinkle of his blue eyes.

"Thank you Sir, although I do seem to spend most of my day sleeping."

"You need the rest, Lee. I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke," Harry offered regretfully.

Lee smiled, knowing his friend had done what needed to be done. "Chip tells me you got him," he said in easy conversation.

Harry nodded with his own smile. "ONI has him in custody and in a secure location."

Lee nodded his understanding. "It's always hard to deal with betrayal," he added wistfully. "Will you fill me in on what happened after the shooting?"

"Of course, Lee," Harry answered, sitting back and recounting all the details for him.

Lee was pleased with how the sting went down and that neither admiral had done anything to risk their careers for vengeance' sake. He chuckled when he heard that Johnson had taunted Nicolo with "two old guys" taking him down, that would have damaged Nicolo's ego tremendously; something that Lee found very gratifying.

His energy level was waning again as Harry leaned over and patted his arm.

"You look like you could use a rest, and I'm ready for a hot shower and bed. I'll see you later, Lee."

"Thank you, Sir. It was good to see you, Admiral," he said in complete sincerity.

Harry smiled and rose as Lee closed his eyes contemplating everything Harry told him. It had been close, and even though he felt as weak as a kitten, he reveled in the feel of his close friends, and the ride home aboard Seaview in a few days. He winced when he moved to adjust himself in bed and swallowed hard, then gave in and released more pain medication as his eyes got heavy.

# # # # #

Gerald made his way to Lee's hospital room and entered quietly. The day had been a busy one with processing the new prisoner. Nicolo had been placed in high security and was considered a high risk for escape as the seasoned operative had proven his considerable skills many times in the past. As such, extra precautions were taken to assure Phillip Nicolo would stand trial for his crimes. Gerald briefed his superiors as to Nicolo's arrest, and after checking in at his temporary office while his regular office was under construction for repairs, he found the day gone.

 _It's better this way,_ he thought silently.

Gerald was a man who kept his feelings in check, not because he was too manly to have sentimental feelings, but because those same sentimental feelings could get in the way of doing his job. He assigned duties and missions based on the operative's skill and the best chance of success, he couldn't afford to withhold an operative from an assignment for personal feelings; it would be neither fair nor ethical. But over the years, he found it hard not to respect Lee deeply, and when he was gunned down in front of ONI it hit him hard on a personal level. He was able to mask his concern and subsequent actions as anger over the traitorous acts of the naval captain and his brazen presumptuousness to not only plant a bomb at ONI, but to gun down his victim on the sidewalks of the prestigious counter-espionage unit. But inside he knew that he went after Nicolo because of what he did to Lee. The three bullets left so much blood on the sidewalk that maintenance had given up trying to bleach out the remains of the attack. In the end, a work-order was approved to replace the concrete and lay a fresh sidewalk, erasing the scars of the attack from ONI's building, but not from his memory; he'd remember that forever.

Gerald walked to Lee's bed; it was late at night and as expected Lee was asleep. He thought about the sting they had employed to bring Nicolo in. He had his own fantasies of what he wanted to do with Nicolo once in his grasp. Something about an "eye for an eye" and three bullets in like fashion in Nicolo's body, but he reined in his personal desires for revenge and stayed in control, opting instead to contain the fugitive-operative in the elevator to reduce collateral damage.

 _Retribution is a pendulum_ , he thought as he watched Lee, _with two opposite sides, one dark... one light_ ; the darker side of retribution encasing the feelings of revenge and vengeance, and bypassing even a scum like Nicolo's right to trial. He didn't particularly care about Nicolo's "rights" per se, but he was concerned about _doing_ what was right. That was the other side of the pendulum, where justice abides... clearly and unashamedly in the light.

"Well, we got him, Lee," he spoke softly, mostly to himself. "The Doc tells me you're going to recover, and you'll be transferred to Seaview soon, but I just wanted to see for myself. You're a good operative, a fine naval officer... and a good friend."

His voice was quiet and reflective as he stepped back and exited the room, grateful that he could say what he had come to say and that Lee hadn't woken in the process. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell Lee these things when he could truly appreciate it, but he simply couldn't afford to verbalize it any other way. Gerald squared his shoulders and walked the darkened hallways with his cover tucked neatly under his elbow and ready to head home.

# # # # #

Lee opened his eyes and watched the hospital door swing closed behind the departing admiral. He had felt someone enter the room, but figured it was the duty nurse; so, he ignored what he thought would be checks on the equipment and the inevitable poking and prodding that accompanied these visits. When Johnson began to talk he was surprised, but the quietness of the admiral's introspective voice led him to believe that Gerald didn't intend for the conversation to be acknowledged, so he remained silent. Somehow, deep inside, he thought it was what Gerald wanted. As Johnson left, Lee let out a sigh of contentment, having already counted Gerald as one of his close friends, even though the two couldn't acknowledge it past their professional relationship as senior officer and subordinate.

He closed his eyes and allowed the lateness of the night to take him to the deep healing sleep he needed.

# # # # #

Lee was transferred by ambulance to Seaview a little over a week after he'd been shot three times. He was feeling stronger, but unable to get around on his leg without crutches, which he couldn't support under his arms yet due to his other injuries. In the end, Jamie and Dr. Davis opted for Lee to be rendered unconsciousness, since the move would undoubtedly be painful. Still, he was deemed fit for the transfer as the ambulance arrived silently, without its sirens to deliver Seaview's Captain.

Jamie rode with his patient as Harry followed behind in a car, personally seeing to Lee's arrival "home". Seaview's captain was transferred from the ambulance to a stretcher, then lowered through the missile room cargo bay doors. Jamie checked his vitals and made sure his stitches had stayed put, and then motioned for the corpsman to carry him the rest of the way to sickbay.

Crewman lined the hallways getting a glimpse of their Skipper as various thoughts of their own forms of retribution filled their minds, but mostly they were grateful that Captain Crane had beaten the odds once again.

Lee was settled into a bunk, his permanent residence for the next two weeks as Jamie verified that he had tolerated the transfer well. Harry was assured that Lee would be out for several more hours and left for the Control Room to watch Seaview's departure from Washington Naval Yard.

# # # # #

The hum of Seaview's engines at standard greeted Lee's wakefulness as he sighed in relief to be home. He reached for the bulkhead wall and felt the vibrations of the sub's nuclear powered engines and smiled. Lee heard a rustling beside him and knew instinctively who was there as he turned his head to verify his assumption.

"Hello Sir."

"Lee!" Harry replied in subdued delight. "I was working on this report and didn't notice your waking," he explained with a satisfied smile.

"Feels like we're underway," Lee replied, feeling the exhaustion of the transfer even though he'd been completely sedated.

"Seaview's on her way home," Harry declared matter of factly.

"So am I," Lee replied with a small smile that grew as he and Harry shared a silent moment of friendship that spoke volumes even though it was inaudible.

Harry broke the silent contemplation by pulling Beach's novel out from under his reports.

"Now, Chip tells me that you've fallen asleep during most of his readings, so I thought we'd start over from the beginning."

"Sounds good, Sir," Lee replied and settled in for the novel, satisfied for many reasons, but mostly because Harry had chosen to take the lighter shade of retribution. Harry's choice of justice accentuated his high standard of integrity; something Phil Nicolo could never have or understand. Lee shook off his silent contemplation to enjoy Harry's strong baritone voice, adding drama with his voice inflections. As he read, Lee realized that the novel itself was a strange illustration to his current feelings; for though the sea was indeed cold, he was surrounded by the warmth of his submarine and good friends to help him make it through the long recovery.

 _ **Retribution:**_

 **Punishment that is considered to be**

 **morally right and fully deserved.**

 **(Oxford Dictionaries)**

 **The End**

Ambush Part II, Shades of Retribution

 **Credits:**

* See my story, _The Princess of Sabrini_

** _Cold is the Sea_ , a novel written by Commander Edward L. Beach Jr, in 1978. Beach served aboard subs in WWII and wrote thirteen novels with _Cold is the Sea_ being the third installment to his best known novel, _Run Silent, Run Deep_.

***See my stories, _Integrity_ and _No Man Left Behind_ for the back stories of my recurring character, CIA Agent John Baxter

 _Shades of Retribution_ is the final installment to the Edge of Doom Series, based upon the Fourth Season episode of the same name, written by William Welch, Directed by Justus Addiss, original air date March 17, 1968.

Copyright 2014, 2017 All Rights Reserved

 **Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea and her main characters belong to Irwin Allen**


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